Hundreds of different sounds filled my ears: insects, birds, snakes. They all blended together to make a sound like a call from an unknowable whole. This wasn’t home. It couldn’t be. My eyes cracked open, a net enveloped my bed, well more “soft” slabs.
Then it clicked: I was deep inside a place that some call “the lungs of the earth,” the Amazon Rainforest.
I went to the restroom to brush my teeth; the roaches still hadn’t moved out. They wouldn’t be missed. I was glad that we were leaving this shanty lodge. Little did I know that compared to our future dwelling, this place was luxurious.
The two hour boat ride down the Amazon River evades my memory, seeing as I was asleep for the entirety of it. Upon arrival at the ExplorNapo, I saw what I once believed to be an oversized rat — now objectively the best creature on the planet — a Capybara.
Two miles later, trekking through the jungle, the station came into view. ACTS, or the Amazon Conservatory for Tropical Studies, is the research facility we would be staying at for the night.
We made it to our rooms. No windows. Not even a screen. The fan ran for four seconds before dying. I slumped down into my “bed”. Figures.
After my third cup of coffee, we ventured back into nature’s domain. What we saw was…what? A treehouse? No. It was more of a staircase leading to a bridge that stretched upwards. I wouldn’t consider myself fearful of heights, but seeing that decrepit bridge made the butterflies in my stomach go rampant, as if they were attempting to escape.
Due to the stability of the bridges, we went in pairs to cross. I planted one foot. The entire bridge shook, the plank bent sideways — another foot, a loss of stability — the netting saved me. Not a great start.
We approached the peak of the bridges, with an endless sea of trees everywhere I looked. I glanced down and the green abyss stared back. I waved and it was almost as if I felt it waving back. I was 115 feet from the forest floor. That number played in my head like a record that wouldn’t cease repetition. I took in my surroundings. The verdant ocean stretched infinitely in all directions. It was like I was one with the Jungle, seeing it from a bird’s eye view, but being one with it at the same time. Truly a feeling I will never know again.
Even after fishing for pirahanas or hanging out with monkeys, the experience high amongst the canopies has stuck with me most.
When I was taking a walk around my neighbourhood following my return, something I had done hundreds of times, I noticed a plant I had never seen before. Before my jungle expedition, plants were genuinely the most boring subject I had ever taken.
Now I find myself stopping to notice some random weed, or an atrocious looking bug and appreciating its existence. Maybe even after leaving, a part of the jungle still lives within me.
